


Pretty Little Omega

by dorker



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Alpha Greg, Alpha Sherlock, Alpha!OMC, Anal Sex, Beta Mycroft, Dragon!Sherlock - Freeform, M/M, Not Poly, Omega John, Oral Sex, Pairing chosen by readers, Shameless Smut, Smut, a/b/o dynamics, dub-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-25
Updated: 2014-02-14
Packaged: 2018-01-05 21:34:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 8,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1098836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dorker/pseuds/dorker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock Holmes has never been very fond of sharing what he claims is his. Especially when that is a very important person happens to be his Omega flatmate, John Watson. Of course, John isn't exactly his, but that doesn't mean it doesn't piss him off when the one person he trusted the most and some random prick try to take the man away from him.</p><p> </p><p>(Will be completely rewritten by New Years. If not by then, then extra porn will be given of BOTH Johnlock and Sherstrade in my lateness. Hopefully Thanksgiving break and Christmas break will give me time)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. That Went Well

**Author's Note:**

> There is something in my eye, so this first chapter shall be short. Anyhow, I am super frustrated at it, and this is my third time editing. I'm trying to have it as brit-picked as I can, and I have a few British friends helping me. I'm honestly sorry if there is something out of the ordinary, I am American.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh and this is the time during Scandal in Belgravia and Hounds of Baskerville

"John, your opinion?" Sherlock said, looking up at the Omega as he scanned the body of the female Omega on the floor, clearly dead. Like that wasn't obvious.

"Ah, well, let's have a look, shall we?" John licked his lips and got to work. "The bruises on her hips and throat aren't fresh, which is kind of odd. Judging by her jewelry and her mate's status, she was a prize. But why would you hurt a prized Omega? The smudge of it kind of looks like she tried to cover it with makeup or something, and it's started to, uh, just fade."

"Excellent." Sherlock said, standing up and striding to the door. "It was the butler," he called out behind him, ignoring the odd looks and questioning glances handed to him with practiced ease. He left the sight, leaving his Omega Flatmate behind without a thought.

 

"Damnit, Sherlock.." John raked a hand through his hair, strarting to head for a road where he could fetch a cab and go home.

"John!" Lestrade called after the Omega, jogging to catch up. The Alpha set a comforting hand on the Omega's arm, letting himself catch his breath.

"Uh, Lestrade. What's up?" John asked, a worried smile on his lips though the warm hand on his arm was comforting.

"You're not honestly going out alone, are you?" Lestrade's voice and pasture was full of worry, and the waves rolling off of him were pure comfort. John's biology begged for him to curl into the warmth, but he was an army doctor. He had to keep himself steady, and he was not submitting just because some Alpha wanted him to.

"I've got to get back to the flat," John said quietly, offering an apologetic smile.

"Ah well, would you at least accompany me to the pub?" the Alpha asked,  his arm wrapping loosely around John's shoulders. The Omega nodded curtly, following the man willingly and keeping track of the street names in case he had to walk them to a better place to get a ride back home.

 

 

They arrived at the pub half an hour later, and found themselves some seats at the bar. Lestrade paid by instinct, and ordered himself a scotch. John ordered a stout porter, but never let his back be kept to the door. The two talked for a few hours, and a few drinks later, they were laughing with each other. Their stools moved closer with each passing hour, and around two in the morning, they headed to leave. They share eachothers' scents, all over their clothing and stenching up their bodies. Greg hailed a cab and they set off to 221B Baker street.

"Just wait a minute, yes?" Greg followed John up to the door, watching as John fumbled with his keys to find the right one. "I had a good time tonight."

"Me too, thanks for uh, taking me out," John offered a sheepish smile, turning his head to look back at Greg. Nothing about the Alpha showed or felt threatening, it was more comfort and a welcoming.

"We should go out again some time," Lestrade offered. John smiled and turned to face him, and before he knew exactly what he was doing, the Omega found himself pressing a kiss into the DI. The Alpha responded near instantly, though regretfully pulled back. "Don't want to keep the cabbie waiting. See you soon, John."

 

John made it inside and up the stairs, barely noticing the dragon in the corner watching the cab drive off. He took off his jacket and draped it over his seat, dragging his hands over his face and through his hair, remembering those soft lips on his. But this was Greg! Sure, he was a single and handsome Alpha, but John wasn't going to live the 'Housewife' Omega life. He wasn't even sure he wanted kids. The said Omega sunk into his chair, groaning at the pressure taken off his feet.


	2. Mina.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock doesn't like to share what's his. And in his book, John is his. They may not be bonded or have marks, but it should be clear. They live together, for bloody sakes. So why wasn't Lestrade paying attention to this?

Sherlock watched the Cab drive away, and growled lowly. The Alpha snapped his attention to the drunken Omega, and besides his own sweet honey smell, Sherlock could smell the DI all over him. Clearly things had become a little more physical. The dragon's skin heated at the thought of the other Alpha putting his hands all over John, and it nearly sickened him. John was his, and even though they weren't bonded, it was clear Sherlock was determined to have John under his wing.

The dragon stepped over to John, dropping to his knees in front of the Omega, pressing his face into the man's thigh. He breathed heavily, nudging the clothed leg, his fingers slinking up John's legs and to the hem of his pants. Yes, they had had sex before, but John was persistent they didn't bond, that he didn't want to live the life of a housewife. Still, the dragon persisted on taking the Omega's clothes off, and with a frustrated growl he just tore the pants away. Bothersome things really, and John tried to protest but gave in.

John moaned at the warm, long tongue on his thigh. The warm temperature the dragon constantly held made his skin raise red from the wet heat, forcing his mind to fall into Omega mode. He allowed his clothes to be ripped from him, no longer caring about them. He'd get more, and tomorrow was as good as a day as any. Standing up, he followed Sherlock to the dragon's room, letting the beastly man hold him to his chest. Sherlock licked and rubbed himself against John's shoulders, and it didn't take long before John realized what he was doing; he was scenting the Omega. John moaned out in pleasure at the thought, but was curious as to why Sherlock was being so persistent. He stood there, panting as Sherlock licked all along his arms and back, trailing with light nips and kisses along with him. When the Alpha finally came to the crevasse in his arse, John's knees went jelly and he leaned himself against the wall, feeling that deliciously hot tongue covering him with the distinct scent of mint, musk, and _home._

 _  
_"S-Sherlock!" John whimpered as the dragon's tongue licked around his slick, wet hole, poking into it and lapping him up. It felt so good, the depths the dragon could go with his impossible tongue. He always managed to go further than any human or other shifter's tongues. Dragons- "Oh god!"- can't live without them. __  


 _  
_Sherlock growled, lapping his tongue over John's delicious arse one more time before letting the Omega fall to his knees. "Going to fill you with my knot, make you beg for more some day, John. You are mine. Someday you'll be fat with my pups, produce a good litter of 'em. Mine," The dragon growled possessively, pulling the whining Omega onto his hard cock, a pleasured moan escaping his lips. The Omega wriggled for a moment, searching for a good spot before letting the Alpha thrust up into him, crying out in pleasure.

"Mine, say it John. Say you're mine," Sherlock growled, though barely noticed the lack of words coming from the Omega. He was swallowed up by the tight, hot pleasure of his Omega's slick hole milking him as he thrust up. He dragged his hand to John's prick and stroked him, helping him over the edge. The Omega clenched around him, and he followed suit. Instinct told him to bite into the Omega's shoulder, but he couldn't. He'd promised he'd wait for John. It was irritating, but he promised. 


	3. Challenge Accepted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New case? Excellent! But for Sherlock it proves to be a living hell. He doesn't like the domesticity of horses, let alone having to care for them. If he wasn't so stubborn on sticking with the Omega, he'd just fly about and get it over with. But then he notices something. John's basically in love with the horses, and they seem to just gravitate to him. Is it just basic Omega nature, or is he missing something here?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sick, but Merry Christmas guys. I am a little sick right now, and my knowledge of Trent Park is very low past the uh website. I do have knowledge in horses though, so nya. Have I ever told you guys this isn't beta'd?
> 
> Hey look! My longest chapter! :D
> 
> *edit* Tim is now Tom  
> ehehe get it. I don't have to change anything but his name too! HAHAHAHA  
> Oh, spoilers -not really- becuse. Well.

"Sherlock, what are you thinking about?" John asked, watching the Alpha walked around with his hands under his chin in a prayer stance. When the said Alpha didn't reply, John got up and made his way to the kitchen to make himself some tea. He leaned against the counter, thrumming his fingers absently as he waited for the water to boil, smiling when those familiar and strong arms wrapped around his waist.

"I have a new case for us," Sherlock murmured in the man's ear.

"What's the catch?" John said, leaning back into the enveloping warmth. 

"Trent Park Equestrian Centre. One of the riders was killed during a trail, and they're claiming it wasn't the horse." Sherlock commented with complete and utter boredom in his voice. He didn't sound the least bit enthusiastic, but if he was even mentioning it he had to have a reason, right?

"Alright. When do we go?" 

"An hour."

 

~O~

The cab ride was long and comfortably quiet, just some basic info traded between the two as the scenery went past them. The Alpha absently got closer to the Omega, their knees and shoulders touching as they drove about. When the cab came to a stop, Sherlock paid the far and got out, expecting the Omega to follow along as he made his way up to meet with the instructor.

"Thank you for coming out. One of our regular riders was killed on our most populous trail. There's nothing out there to spook the horses, and we have trails every day." The main instructor said, shifting her weight on her legs. Beta, by his posture, but he smelled of horses more than anything. "I'm Sam, by the way. Sherlock, right?"

"Yes. Where is this spot where the rider was killed again?" Sherlock asked, looking around with plain boredom, though he watched John out of the corner of his eyes. The Omega held an energetic feeling around him, and his blue eyes were scanning the area with interest. Sherlock saved that in his mind palace, returning his attention to Sam.

"It's towards the end of our trail. The path's too narrow for any vehicle and the fastest way to get out there is horseback. Are you alright with that?" Sam asked, looking to both the Alpha and Omega. The shorter man seemed thrilled at the idea, but was containing it and looking to the Alpha with a hopeful gleam. Were they bonded? No, they'd be closer. And there'd be a mark. Hmm.

"No other way?"

"Not unless you want to walk a few miles."

"Alright. "

 

~O~

 

Sherlock Holmes is not a fan of horses. Or anything he has to take care of. He was told to groom his own horse before they could go out, their arrival had been earlier than planned. Sam helped John a tiny bit, the Omega was instantly running the brush over with simple strokes, ridding of the dust and dirt from the horses' back. Cloud, as he'd been told, was basically a gentle giant for him. Sherlock on the other hand, had to have constant help from Sam. It bored him that he had to groom the horse, but it was slowly becoming an easy pattern. Domesticity was not his division.

Finally with the horses tacked and groomed, they were lead to a gate. They mounted their horses with ease, and followed Sam through the gate an onto a well-worn path. The ride was silent, with Sam in front and Sherlock in the back, putting the Omega out of danger. A few minutes in, Sherlock cleared his throat and shifted himself in his seat, remembering that he had to have his heels down. Right. Heels down. Looking ahead of himself, both men already had them down. Sam, of course, he was an experienced rider. John.. they never actually told them to keep heels down. Had he ever ridden before? Before he could bother to ask, Sam stopped his horse and so John followed. Sherlock rode up next to John and stopped, waiting.

"This was where she, uh, was found. Her horse was over there in the pasture, but these fences have electric wiring. Whatever got into it, it scared it enough to risk shocks."

"Maybe it wasn't attacked, maybe something just came over them," John supplied helpfully, licking his lips. Sam dismounted and Sherlock followed suit, handing the reins to John. 

"Maybe it was put into their food, medication, odd foods, anything. If something did scare it, it'd have to be from within the forest, and a deer would be too spooked. Foxes are a maybe, but.." Sherlock trailed off, finding several odd dents in the soft ground. 

"When did it last rain here?" Sherlock inquired, grey eyes flicking over every detail as he could manage, finding the pace in the steps and the proximity. Odd.

"Uh, a few days ago. Some spots more than others," said Sam, hoping he was helping. 

"Who was this rider? Name, I need a name!" Sherlock said, standing up quickly as he started to follow the path ahead.

"Name?! Oh! Emma Biggs! She's a stage 2 student, nice girl. She wanted to become an instructor as well. Her horse was her prized possession. Her horse would never do this, even if he was scared."

"John!" The Omega jumped a bit, looking startled from his calm seat. The horse underneath him whinnied at the sudden movement, but didn't budge. 

"What, Sherlock?"

"We're going to the morgue. Sam, we'll be back in a week. Keep this trail blocked off, I need this spot preserved exactly the way we found it. No ifs' ands' or buts'. I need it to be done. " Sherlock made his way back to his horse and took the reins, mounted, and turned his horse around. John followed happily, leaving the instructor behind them. 

 

~O~

 

Halfway back down the path, the men slowed their horses down from a trot to a walk, letting them take a breather. "Where did you learn to ride?" Sherlock asked, looking at John with curiosity. The other man shifted a bit, uncomfortable in his own skin. He leaned in on himself and the horse reacted by letting out another impatient whinny.

"Occasionally I'd manage to get to a friend's house. He had tons of horses and taught me. Said I was a natural. Always did have something positive to say. Once my father found out, he.. well, you know. I never got back into horses after that. I don't even know what happened to Tom. I remember he had some kind of disease, but I don't remember what." There was more of what John wasn't willing to say, but his posture and sudden quietness ended the conversation on his side. Clearly this Tom had meant something to him.

"And you?"

"Hmm? Oh, well Mummy always had a hidden interest in horses and got Mycroft and myself into riding when we were kids. I didn't like the domesticity so I stopped, and Mycroft followed after. Three years at most, I guess. I didn't enjoy the domesticity of caring for them. Tedious tasks." Sherlock said, clearly annoyed with the idea. 

"Come on, we've only got two hours before the sun sets and the morgue closes at eight." John smiled, kicking the hide of the horse and set off in a strong trot. He stationed himself, trying to keep from hurting himself and the horse. Of course Sherlock followed at a more leisurable pace, but Sherlock was Sherlock, and Sherlock doesn't understand the beauty of a horse.


	4. Another Consequence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John tells Greg about his old childhood friend over a pint, and the man manages to find him. Of course, this just makes it all the more difficulty for Greg to try and swoon John; Tom's another Alpha, and severely close with John.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All hell shall break loose, and I'll be editing this in several parts, so if it seems choppy my dearest apologies. Because someone wanted to hear more about John's past, I decided to bring it into the future.  
> I also have no definite ending because I have no idea who he shall end up with, but I have ideas.
> 
> Also, thanks for the kudos, and comments! Votes are welcomed, and there is a free pole somewhere around here.

Sherlock spent his night in the morgue, so John did what he normally did when he was home alone; called up Greg and asked if he wanted to go to the pub. They met up half way there and walked, quietly talking and standing in the comfortable presence of each other. They drank quietly at the pub, taking their usual seats at the bar, chatting quietly with the barkeep, keeping conversation light between them.

"So you're saying Sherlock doesn't like horses?" Greg inquired, raising a brow and taking a sip from his porter.

"Yeah, pretty much. He didn't seem comfortable, but he knew what he was doing. The only reason I noticed was because I used to ride too."

"Really? When? How come?"

"Ah, well, this old friend of mine. Thomas Hargold. Rich boy, he was very nice to me, and showed me how to ride. Best friend I ever had, that Tom." John said, staring into his own porter stout with a distanced gaze in his eyes.

"Oh, I'm sorry I didn't mean to bring up anything-"

"It's fine. I don't know if he's even still around. He had some disease or whatnot, real sick and scrawny, but one hell of a good rider. Should have seen him with the Beta's in school. Always flaunting himself and then pretending he didn't know a thing.." John trailed off, wonderful memories of his childhood coming back. Tom was a tall one, skinny but had always been strong. Dark, soft hair and beautiful caramel eyes always riddled with curiosity.

"It's almost one, I'm sure Sherlock will be wondering where I am.. Thanks for coming out with me," John offered a soft smile, standing up and moving to the door, expecting the Alpha to follow. He ignored the curious eyes of the bartender, She only meant well for him right?

 

Greg followed John up to the door again, having the cabbie wait for a minute. John fumbled for his keys again, going through his seemingly over-full keychain.

"So um, I was wondering if you'd go out for another stout say Friday?" Greg asked, softening his shoulders a bit to give off a calm, caring posture.

"Sounds fine by me, Greg," John gave back a kind smile, copying the pose and stepping forward. The Omega reached out, taking the Alpha's chin in his hand gently and pulling him into a soft kiss. The DI was surprised for a moment before leaning into it a little more, hands reaching out to hold onto John's elbows, pulling him closer. The Omega stayed in the kiss, falling into the comfort of the Alpha. Later biology would kick him in the arse, but for now this felt nice. The Alpha smelled delicious. Completely different from Sherlock, Gregory smelt of oranges, gunpowder, and coffee. Kinda like Tom. The memory kicked him in the gut and the Omega pulled back reluctantly, throwing his gaze to the ground. He muttered something about a good night and Friday, and disappeared into the flat.

 

~O~

 

Greg really shouldn't have put in as much time as he did with finding this Thomas Gar-something. Whatever his name was, he wasn't that hard to find. Once he found the man though, it was a little bit more tricky to have access to his medical files. He didn't get any further than age, name, birthplace, and some number ID he didn't quite understand. Well protected identity surely meant he was of some high regarding company, thus he must be a wealthy Beta. Greg put in a few good calls and waited patiently. Somewhere around four in the morning he received a voicemail with a simple 'See you tomorrow in the Yard.' from Tom. Good, he'd soon be able to please John and hopefully win the Omega over. Sure, he could see the potential of John and Sherlock, but Sherlock wasn't exactly father material, and didn't take care of John very well.

Ditching him at crime scenes? Leaving him to care for the distressed others? At least he could manage a child. Sure, he didn't have any and with a broken contracted bond, he might not ever again. But John managed to see past that, and hadn't he been the one to kiss him? Twice? Sure they were drunk, sloppy kisses, but it was a start. And maybe with the help of finding the man's childhood friend, he'd end up with a sweet honeysuckle-scented Omega in his arms.

 

~O~

 

As promised, Lestrade waits in the Yard. It's not long before a sleek black car drops off a man whose posture and clothing scream _rich!rich!rich!_ The fair haired man stepped back as his ride went off, no doubt hiding in the alley and waiting for his return. "Ah, Gregory Lestrade, correct? Thank you for inviting me down. It's a pleasure to see all that's going on about here. You said you needed some equestrian help?" The man inquired, tiliting his head a bit in respect but not submission. 

"Yes, I'm Gregory Lestrade, please just call me Greg. Ah yes, thank you for coming out. The people of Trent Park are being a bit stubborn, and won't let the yard in. We've had some help manage to get in- and here they are now," the Alpha sighed as he watched a cabbie drive up and drop off the two. 

"Lestrade," Sherlock acknowledged, stapping around the Alpha to size up this scent-free man in front of them. There wasn't anything to grasp at to tell if he was Alpha, Beta, or Omega, though it was probably Omega. High posture like he knew he was better than any one else and deserved better. Possibly Alpha, but he had a softer posture and calming mood about him. Beta maybe? 

"Yes. Ah, Sherlock, John, this is-" Lestrade started before being cut off.

"Tom Hargold. Lovely to meet you," the man gave a charming smile to the Alpha, whiched seemed to be enough to keep the DI from sizing him up.

 

John froze in place, the name ringing hard, loud bells in his head. There was some mumbling around him, introductions, and he could feel the tightness in the air. Tom? His Tom, the Tom he knew as a child? He looked to Greg with a wonderous look, raising a brow. The Alpha only offered a kind smile, knowing and smug almost. Never mind that, this was Tom!

  
Before he knew what he was doing, he was buried in the warm arms of the Alpha man, whimpering into the embrace. His mind told him to stop being such a baby, but biology told him to curl into the familiarity of his once-thought dead friend. Both Sherlock and Greg tensed around him, standing tall and ready to spring. Tom wrapped his arms tighter around John, breathing in that sweet, familiar scent of him. The name Watson rang a bell, and the scent was oh so sweet. Honeysuckle, if he could remember. But where was this all familiar from?

"I thought you were dead, Tom," the Omega's voice strained a bit. "But why are you hiding?" he whispered, nuzzling deeper into the scentless Alpha.

"John," Sherlock growled, his voice low and predatory. Grey eyes looked the mysterious man over, finding the best places to attack and tear at without injuring the Omega too much. Tim looked up for him, confusion on his face before it contorted into a well-meaning, charming smile. 

"Because, John. They'd never let me come out. You know how the Yard is with strange Alphas," Tom murmured, just loud enough for the other two to hear. 

 

Sherlock turned on Greg, eying him. "Sherlock, It's not what you think! I didn't know!" The DI cried out, knowing exactly what was going on through the high-functioning physociopath's head. A small crowd gathered around them, watching the two Alpha size each other up, ignorant of the moving bodies milling away. Tom lead John away, whispering sweet nothing to the poor, shaken Omega.

"Do you want to come home with me again, John?" The Omega nodded against his shoulder, and he walked John to the black car awaiting them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm such a bitch. So, estimating this will take up to ten chapters? Depending on who you guys choose!


	5. Karma At It's Best

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and Greg can't tear each other apart, they need each other to live on. But even after the fight, something's missing. Wait. Where's John? In this chapter, John's biology takes over his sense of morality at the scent of a familiar man, and Sherlock and Lestrade must work together to regain their Omega before something bad happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh and no one likes Tom anymore soo... he's the creeper and now this shall be added into the story. BTW this will probably only be seven chapters, if not six.

John nuzzled into Tom, leaning into the warmth coming from the familiar Alpha. Biology had ridden him of his simplest moralities, leaving him the 1900's version of 'house wife'. They were curled up on the man's large, and rather comfortable bed, the telly going off in the background. Tom murmured in the Omega's hair, arms wrapping tightly around his waist. Pressing his nose into the Omega's neck, he inhaled deeply, enjoying the familiar honeysuckle scent. He grasped tighter when he caught the whiff of the other Alphas, each significantly different yet in the same places and just as strong as the other. Of course, that mint smell would never leave John's clothing.. something had to be done.

"John, dear?"

"Mmm?"

"Would you join me in the shower, please?"

"Of course," John said, waiting for the slightest hint of movement before sitting up with Tom. He followed the tall Alpha to the shower, only bothering to move after Tom was up. He stripped with ease in the bathroom, the army had given enough modesty to last a life time. He could feel those possessive eyes on his back, arse, thighs, all of him. The thought nearly excited him, but he merely stepped into the shower after Tom, letting the Alpha choose the temperature. Instincts kicked in, and the Omega all but nearly threw himself at Tom while in the process of nuzzling into his back and wrapping his arms around the man's waist.

Thomas smirked in the wet spray of the shower and turned himself around, his hands roaming freely up and down John's sides, fingertips lightly dancing in a patternless form. "Such a lovely Omega, John. I could make you the happiest, spoil you in riches. We could have a family, a good family and they wouldn't have to worry. They'd have a good dad, a real dad, John. Won't have to hide," Tom kept rattling off the sweetest, most delicious promises he could think of, breathing heavily on the Omega's ear, nipping and tugging. And oh god did it feel good.

John whimpered, nuzzling himself into the Alpha's chest. All of his personal thoughts, well, almost all, were slowly disappearing. Tom smelt amazing. Like horses, hay, and comfort. Something though, felt like it was missing. He inhaled deeply, a whimper escaping at a slight caress over his arse. Still, something was missing. But what? Any time John had ever had shower sex with Sherlock, it was quick but deliriously perfect. Sherlock always had that nice pine smell to him, that coincided with peppermint and home. Though he could be terrifying at times, and downright childish, Sherlock had always cared for him and given him what he wanted, when he wanted. And Lestrade, the man left so much to think about, and the kisses -though sloppy due to alcoholic intake- were amazing. A sharp nip to John's ear brought him back to the present, a loud moan escaping his lips. He hadn't even realised Tom had been probing at his arse until he felt a second finger entering him.

His blunt nails dug into the Alpha's biceps, though he didn't object. He kept silent save for the few moans and gasps here and there, his mind focusing on Greg's passion and Sherlock's full-hearted rush.

 

~O~

 

When John woke up again, he was tucked neatly under the thick duvet. Smiling to himself, he curled up tighter into the fetal position, a slight rerun of Sherlock's arm loosely over his waist, still sleeping or at least faking it for his own good. Turning to look for Tom, he was met with only an empty, and well-kept bed. No Alpha, no warm body, no mess of the covers even showing he'd been there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short ass chapter. Took forever to get out. Had to rewrite the last six paragraphs over and over again due to shitty internet and family disturbing me. I think they're onto me.
> 
> Anyways, here's a nice little way to tear down Tom's rep in everybody and boost up Sherlock and Lestrade. I still would like to see more Greg enthusiasts, but I asked you guys, so fuck my luck.
> 
> *edit*  
> I don't know why it's showing up clustered, it looks perfectly fine in the writings.  
> Again, I'


	6. Karma Continued

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why is Tom not there? Why's John alone? Who would ever, in their right minds, leave an Omega in their most vulnerable state?!
> 
> Sherlock and Lestrade find John and take him home.

John whimpered to himself, his mind racing with all the possibilities. Surely, he must have gotten up to piss, or grab another blanket. He waited for a few minutes, whimpering and nervously worrying his bottom lip. Finally, curiosity got the best of him and he stood up, ignoring the little fact that he was only wearing red pants. He checked the bathroom, the kitchen, livingroom, everywhere he'd been shown. No one was even in the house, and he was starting to really worry. Grabbing the nearest blanket he could find, he hid in the darkest corner he knew of and waiting, trying to ignore his own scent of fear surrounding him. He wrapped the blanket around tighter about his neck and body.

 

~O~

 

"Goddamnit man, where the hell is he?!" Sherlock yelled, circling the Alpha, rage pouring out of him. Lestrade watched him, though he was thinking the same thing; kill kill kill. How dare this random Alpha, despite his history, even bother to touch let alone have sex with. They'd only been in the company of Thomas Garold for three minutes, and Sherlock had already deduced he'd had sex with the Omega. Yes, he had absolutely no scent on him, but his eyes gave way once questioned about it. 

"Why do you care? You were the one who let him go, you freak," Tom spat back, though his emotions were silenced by a blank face yet again. The curly-haired Alpha snarled, glaring at Tom.

"Tell me where he is or I'll tear you to pieces," Sherlock snarled, feeling the itch of his Dragon begging to come out and do just that. Or, just ram his long horns into the man and tear him apart like that. The red scales adorning his jaw and cheekbones burned with anticipation, his body heating up in excitement. Tom must've seen the danger he was getting himself into, backing off. 

"Up the stairs, third door to your right."

 

~O~

 

"Sherlock, calm down. You'll scare him. Who knows what is going on through his poor mind. Yes, I'd love to have let you tear him apart, but he's fair game. You never bonded with him, or mated with him- bloody hell! What is that god awful smell?" Lestrade stopped, his face scrunching up in disgust. The whole place smelled like borax.Before the DI could even utter another word, the dragon started heading off in a completely different direction than they were given. 

"John?" Sherlock called out, his voice a mere whisper and his face filled with concern. He stayed in the light of the livingroom, though the scent of a fearful Omega in the room was strong. His grey eyes danced in every corner, searching and searching for John. Lestrade came up next to him, breathing heavily as though he'd been running up and down the stairs several times. 

A strangled whimper came from one of the corners, Jerking Sherlock from his search. e narrowed on the little mess in the corner, cursing himself under his breath how he'd missed such a huge clue. He strode easily to the corner, moving to his knees in front of the mess. Careful fingers pulled gently at the fuzzy fabric, exposing a mess of ashblond hair and the dark scent of fear. 

"John, It's me John. We can go home, John. We can go home," Sherlock pulled the covers down a little more, meeting with John's beautiful blue eyes. He delved into the Omega, wrapping his arms around the man, holding him close till he felt John start to return the act. There was a little bit of shouting, and of course a few choice words, but eventually Lestrade came back to them, keeping his respectful distance.

"Sherlock, John, Thomas is being sent to jail for contamination of a crime scene," Lestrade breathed, meeting eyes with John. "You okay?" 

John nodded, before nuzzling back into the crook of Sherlock's neck, whimpering and sighing in contentment. The Alpha picked up the Omega bride-style, ignoring the grabby hands digging into his shoulder and scales underneath his coat, carrying him away. He murmured sweet things, soft things, trying to keep him calm and happy. 

 

~O~

 

The ride back had been silent, though John sat firmly between Lestrade and Sherlock. He managed to fall asleep besides the stress put on him, resting his head against Greg's shoulder, his hand being played with by Sherlock. 

"I'm going to tear him to pieces, Greg. The minute he steps out of prison, I'm shooting him," Sherlock bristled, though his fantasies included tearing him to shreds, and then boiling his body into several pieces. 

"Sherlock, you know you can't do that-"

"Insanity defense. I'd even fake my death if it meant protecting John."

"You'd make a great mate, Sherlock," Lestrade gave a soft smile, though a sad look appeared in his eyes. To avoid talking about it, the DI looked out the window, knowing he was basically defeated. He'd never be as good of a mate for John as Sherlock. And Dragons mate for life. No point in trying anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuck this chapter. I almost fell asleep twice, I almost wrote 'Jawn' instead of Sherlock, and I almost put Moriarty instead of Tom.
> 
> It's too late and I'm about ready to die. Should be done in two chapters. Smut, and a huge fight, and then smut. Okay maybe three. But Lestrade and everyone else [save Mrs. Hudson or Mycroft] will probably be gone.
> 
>  
> 
> Oh and this is the time during Scandal in Belgravia and Hounds of Baskerville


	7. Porn Porn Porn Porn, Porny Porn Porn Porn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and John talk about bonding and pups, followed by fluffiness, and then followed even further more with fluffy-to-rough sex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm already going to hell. Hi Lucifer.  
> Half-written by mobile, my hand will cramp and I'll forget words here and there if not a whole thought but I'll come back and edit when I can, promise.

John easily followed Sherlock out of the cab and up the stairs, tired and yearning for cuddling. In their flat, he moved to head to his room, only to feel Sherlock's warm hand wrap around his own and pull him back. He opened his mouth to question, but.. usually when he questioned the dragon he'd end up regretting it. Looking up to the Alpha, he offered a smile before taking his hand and heading to Sherlock's room. Stairs weren't important right now.

  
Sherlock followed with ease, though he was craving to just tear his clothes off and hold the Omega close to spread his scent. That damned Tom was only asking for his death, and he was getting it.

  
"You curl up, I'll be back," Sherlock murmured, leaving John to comfy himself on the bed. In the time he'd been away from John, not working on the case, or trying to size up Lestrade, he'd managed to make a lotion he was sure would get the scent off of John. That, and due to his curiosity, Sherlock managed to find the liquidated dopamine and oxytocin in the lab and put it in the lotion. This would hopefully make him calmer and less stressed.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Sherlock held John in his arms, running his hands up and down the Omega's forearms. He'd manged to get them undressed and settled in the bed, but it was hard to not just delve in and work his way over every inch of flesh.

"Sherlock?" The Dragon hummed softly against John's shoulder. "Sherlock, I heard you and Lestrade talking. You would make a good mate.. I just don't want to be a house wife." Distress rolled off of John in waves, proving his point, though his posture showed comfort and relaxation. That was good, so the oxytocin was settling in nicely.

"If you think that's what I want John, you're terribly mistaken."

"You.. wait, so you don't want children? Ever? I though dragons mated for life," john asked, turning neck just a bit to block access.

"Wait, John, no. I don't want a child now, too much excitement. Mmm, maybe in our later years when we have time.." Sherlock hummed back, nuzzling into the crook of John's neck, sighing in content.

"Oh.. okay," John murmured, feeling a huge weight fall off his shoulders. A warming, comforting heat pooled in his stomach,making him fluttery.

Wait. What's today?

"S-Sherlock?"

"Yes, my amor umur?"

"What, what day is it?" John's voice squeaked, though if Sherlock noticed it he was smart enough not to comment.

"The twenty-first, Monday, amor."

Shit.

"S-Sherlock.. my heat's tomorrow. I-I need birth control.." the sentence came out rushed, worry rolling off of John.

"I have some I was going to use for an experiment, but I can grab them for you if you'd like."

"Yes, please."

"Of course."

Since when was Sherlock so overly considerate? Maybe it was the given consent, or maybe that he was getting to take him through hiis heat. Maybe, just maybe, the man's instinct were coming before his brilliantly beautiful brain.

 

 

* * *

Sherlock shuffled through the experiments on the kitchen table, searching for that damned bottle of birth control he'd stolen from John's room. More like borrowed without permission, but he'd needed it; did it affect other chemicals or have a bad result with something edible. Citrus and other chemicals, because he wanted to be sure. John's heat was important; no pups meant the Omega wasn't a house wife, which suited them both fine. Maybe they'd never have kids. Dragons rarely mate with other dragons, let alone humans.

Finding the bottle, he popped the cap and took the addressed amount before making his way down the hall to the bedroom. He shifted the pills in his hand, head down as he watched the white pills move about, before the sweet honeysuckle smell hit him like a wall. Yes, the flat wreaked of him, but this was very, very strong, and very prominent.

He looked up, nearly dropping his hand's contents at the glorious sight. John was in pre-heat, and would soon enough be begging for his knot. The scent, sight and thought rushed straight to his groin. There, on the bed, was the Omega in nothing but a pair of red pants, wriggling and writhing as he tried to find a comfortable position.

The dragon within Sherlock told him to curl around the Omega and wait for his heat to come, and that's what he did. He crawled into the bed, pulling his Omega close. John easily slotted himself back against Sherlock, engulfed in the heat of his Alpha. With the promise of not being a housewife swimming in his head, he was very tempted to let Sherlock sink his teeth into the muscle joint between his neck and shoulder and finally mark them as mates.

John fell asleep in Sherlock's hold, his body preparing him for his heat and letting the birth control do it's magic. Ever since the 1900's, medicine had decided to up it's game and made each birth control pill stronger for each pill, lasting up to four days. John's heats regulated between four to five days, and seeing the month, season, and his mood the past week, Sherlock deduced it'd be a five-day heat. He'd have to leave John or call Molly to bring them some. Either way would require his department from his Omega, and he didn't want that. No way. He wanted every available moment with his Omega. Maybe they'd be lucky and John would only be in heat for four days. That'd be a blessing.

 

* * *

 

Sherlock could smell the Omega's arse becoming slick with his self-lubricant. John wasn't even awake yet, best to let him sleep. The dragon skillfully moved away from John so not to awake him. He kneeled behind the Omega, pressing his nose to the soaking pants. Delicate scents of honeysuckle and an Omega in heat filled his mind and nose, urging him on to his task. Carefully, he pulled at the restraining fabric to expose the man's pert arse. Beautifully round and red and leaking.

Sherlock dipped his head, dragging his tongue along to lap up the slick. Tasteless, yes, but it was the knowing sense that he was the only one who got to treat him this delicately in wait was amazing. Looking up, he saw the little Omega's face contort into unconscious pleasure, spreading a sly smile on the Alpha's face. With determination, Sherlock worked his tongue in and out of John, ridding of the pants and gently massaging pointless circles into the other man's inner thighs. John finally awoke, groggy, but definitely, definitely aroused. Something rough plunged deep into his hole, causing him to create a noise somewhere between a screech and a moan. Reflexively the Omega spread his legs, offering more access. His mind was barely catching up before he realized he was in heat and somebody-no, Sherlock- was eating him out with a strange determination, as if to get him off on this alone. Which by all means, on a normal day, but right now.. Right now was a better time for something a bit bigger, and, well, not a tongue. He must have said something to indicate his needs, because Sherlock stopped and looked up with a pleased smile on his face. He murmured a few comforting words, kneeling behind the Omega with praise. "Present yourself properly, _mon amour."_

Christ. Foreign languages always seemed to get to him, especially coming from that deep baritone. He obeyed his order, turning his hips and pulling his knees up to hold his arse up for his Alpha. John spread his legs a bit in anticipation, whining with excitement. He groaned in pleasure as Sherlock teased his entrance, circling the tight ring of muscles with a finger before entering. Sherlock added another digit and working the man's arse out. 

Sherlock let out a predatory growl, deeming his pretty little Omega ready. "Be patient, _mon amour,_ you must be patient." Sherlock chuckled, his chest rumbling. John was not one for patience, but he obeyed his command and stayed put, moaning when he the stretch when his Alpha entered him. Most times, he could only take some of Sherlock's girth before an uncomfortable pain settled in, but in his heat he was wide open.

Sherlock slid himself the rest fo the way, John's pert hole tight, wet, and blissfully hot. He moaned, letting the Omega get used to his size before slowly pulling back and rocking forward. John gasped lightly at the feel, before leaning back on Sherlock's beautiful cock. He wanted more, needed more. The Alpha clicked his tongue in disapproval, holding his hands on John's hips, ceasing his movements.

"Please. Please, please, Sherlock," John whimpered, trying to lean back despite the strong hands holding him still.

"Please what, John?" Sherlock taunted.

"Please, please, fuck me. Please, Sherlock!"

Sherlock straightened out before almost entirely pulling out of his Omega, letting John whimper at the loss for a moment before thrusting. A pleasured moan escaped John, taking each following thrust blissfully. His hands felt useless as he scratched for purchase, finally digging his blunt nails into the sheet. 

The detective's lithe, tall figure leaned over John's back, flesh-to-flesh as he continued thrusting into the Omega. Sherlock pressed kisses to the joint where shoulder and neck met, feeling his knot start to swell. Reaching a long arm around, the man helped his mate. After a few strokes, John cried out as he came. The tight muscles of the man's arse clenched around Sherlock's cock was brilliant. Sherlock followed soon after, sinking his teeth into the joint as he came, knot tying the two together. 

Sherlock made sure the bite broke skin, he could taste blood on his teeth. Instinctively, he pulled John closer and helped him lay down. It was a bit harder, being buried deep within his mate, but the two managed in the end with a few blankets over them and the two curled up closely. Sherlock peppered the bite with kisses, licking it to ensure his saliva mixed with John's blood, ensuring their bond. 

"I love you, John," Sherlock murmured as he listened to John's even breathing, declaring he was asleep. With one final kiss to John's forehead, he held his Omega closer and didn't let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM FUCKING DONE WITH THIS CHAPTER, I HAVE BEEN WORKING ON IT FOR A VERY LONG TIME. DON'T JUDGE, PORN IS HELL FOR ME TO WRITE IM SORRY.
> 
> not really.


	8. I Will Burn Him First

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Holmes fight.  
> That is literally all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me when Ineed to update! I have less than ten days to get my last chapter up and kill off Tom I mean what?
> 
> Alos the fight was severely necessary, you'll see why next chapter.  
> All on mobile.

Sherlock had been in deep sleep, wrapped around his mate. He woke up with a start, unsure of why. He breathed in deeply; his worst fear was right in front of him. John was still in heat, and somewhere under that, he could smell Alpha. Mrs. Hudson was nowhere in the house, she left for a full week when Johnwas in heat.   
Without my thought, Sherlock was up and pulling up his pants as he left the bedroom to hunt down the intruder. With each step the smell becmae much stronger and more importantly, Familiar.

When Sherlock found hs Brother downstairs with a hankerchief to his nose, he growled. The older Holmes did nothing, just watched his brother with an agrivated look in his eyes. They fought in their own space for ten minutes, growling and snaring, sizing each other up, glaring the other down. Sherlock's eyes flicked gold at as warning to his brother. This didn't faze him, and at some point they both.. were gone.


	9. My Little Bumblebee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock and Mycroft get taken in for affray, only to be pulled back out. John insists with amazing news, and then off the Yarders it is!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IF THIS IS LATE IM SORRY PLEASE BLAME TUMBLR
> 
>  
> 
> also I'm going off of american rights when you're put in jail idk if this differs for brits. psh idk anymore

Sherlock sat impatiently in his cell, hands raked through his dark hair as he sat, thinking about how John was alone. At home. With no one to protect him. Well, not for another thirty minutes anyways. He'd taken his call and dialed Mrs. Hudson since John's heat was over and she'd been gone. But thirty minutes was very long. Especially for an unprotected Omega without his bondmate around. Sherlock growled, tugging at his hair impatiently.

The cell smelled terribly of cleaning supplies. It was nasty. A door opened and close. The nasty smell was wiped out completely with the sweetest scent ever. _Pregnant Omega_ his mind offered. He growled instinctively, walking up to the bars and growling possessively before he realized that the scent was mixed with his own and honeysuckle. John. And another Alpha. Another nasty, deep, threatening growl escaped his lips, the dragon within demanding he get to John and burn the other Alpha. Burn him and tear him to shreds.

But then he saw John and his brother casually strolling down the hall, John's face lighting up when he saw the dark curls and pale skin sticking through the bars. He walked faster, Mycroft following with unsettling ease. The cell was unlocked and Sherlock stepped out without haste, instantly instantly slipping his hands around John's waist and pulling him close, nuzzling into the bondbite.

 _"Mine."_ Sherlock growled. He licked the scar delicately before raising his head to glare at his brother. "What's of him?" he asked, still holding his mate rather close and refusing to let go.

"Oh brother mine, must you interrogate me?" Mycroft asked, rolling his eyes. "Gone. Waiting."

 

"Good." 

 

* * *

 

Sherlock had wanted ever so desperately to take John home and fucking into oblivion. With the thought of pups in his head, he was both terrified and happy. He could sense the same off of his mate. They didn't want kids now, but now that they had a high possibility of children on the way, it made them wonder. Maybe now was as good a time as any. He'd deal with Moriarty and they'd be completely done. Free to live their lives.

The dragon settled for holding John close in the car borrowed to them from his brother. Sherlock had insisted on a cab, but John had convinced him otherwise. The two sat in the car, the dark divider up between them and the driver. Sherlock nuzzled the healing scar tissue on John's shoulder from his bite, dragging his tongue over the little patch of flesh that warned others not to touch John like he did. 

"We should tell the Yarders," John said, leaning back on his mate, his chin tilted so Sherlock had further access to his neck. 

"Mm?"

"Lestrade, Anderson, Donovan? I feel like it's going to be a girl," John rambled, stroking his small belly fondly, happy that he'd soon be full of his Alpha's cubs. "They'll be jealous."

"A girl? It's a little early to even tell, isn't it?" Sherlock asked, skimming his hands over John's flat belly. "Just imagine the looks on their faces." The two sat and giggled, imagining the entire Scotland Yard trying to figure out what that smell was.

And they weren't disappointed. When the car arrived to the office, the change in air was sudden enough to grab the attention of those entering and leaving. Sherlock kept his arm around John's waist as they went in, glaring at the Alpha's even daring to glance their way. John standing close to him was a good enough reminder that he couldn't let his nature get the best of him.

"Congratulations," Lestrade said, stuffing his hands into his coat pockets. Sherlock nodded his head, standing straighter and closer. Mycroft stepped from behind the wall, slitting himself nicely into Lestrade's arms. Neither smelled like the other, but neither of them shared any scent. Both were on scent supressants. How did he not see this coming?

"Thank you," John replied. He seemed to have picked up on it, but he kept his mouth shut and a smile on his face.

"What is that god awful smell-" Donovan started as she walked in, before meeting Sherlock's glare. "You mean, you two..?"

"Oh don't be so daft!"

"Sherlock, behave," Mycroft growled, John elbowing his mate in the stomach hard enough to make him stop but light enough to be seen as teasing and playful by others. 

"Yes. I think it'll be a girl," John interrupted, saving the room from the dragon standing behind him.

"Have a name picked yet?" Lestrade quipped, trying to hide his longing through a happier remark.

"Not yet, but I'm sure we could come up with something," Sherlock replied, still trying to connect the dots between his brother and the DI. His Beta brother and the Alpha who had tried to claim John's heart and bond.

"Well, congratulations nonetheless then, brother."


End file.
